When a Raven Meets a Crow
by Rozelyn
Summary: After Lydia and the others escape Ulysses, the Prince finally decides to send his most powerful servant to finish them off. Is this the end of the crew? And has Raven finally met his match? RavenxOC
1. The Letter

Ulysses grasped the armchair tightly, veins pulsing. He closed his eyes, still feeling the sting of his cheek where The Prince had struck him. His grip tightened, and his nails dug into the oak wood. Between gritted teeth, he swore softly. The Prince had not been pleased with his failure, and had degraded him. He glanced at the spectral hound on his left. The wolf growled with displeasure, its ruby eyes gleaming from the darkness the armchair cast. Ulysses chuckled sadly. "Do not worry," he said. "We'll get our revenge soon."

But his brow furrowed. "We just have to rely on The Prince's most _trusted _servant." He snarled fiercely, and his hand clenched the wood so tightly that his knuckles went white. He spat out her name with detest. "_Crow_."

* * *

><p>Lydia watched the pasting trees and felt the uneasy prickle at her stomach. <em>The Prince . . . <em>She closed her eyes, and Ulysses's haughty voice flowed back into her mind. _Soon. The Prince would be coming soon._ Her stomach made a somersault at that thought. She glanced nervously at Edgar, who was sitting on beside her on the carriage. _What was he thinking?_ His ash mauve eyes revealed nothing as he stared through the other window. Nico leaped gracefully onto Lydia's lap, his eyes gleaming. "Lydia? Are you okay?"

Fear made her heart pulse quicker. "Fine, Nico. Just fine." He did not look convinced, but didn't argue. He wrapped his tail around his paws and lay on Lydia's lap, comforting her with his warmth. But Lydia did not feel comforted. Her legs quaked from underneath her gown, and she had to clench her hands to stop them from trembling. _If Ulysses was that strong, then how powerful is the Prince? _

Her eyes wandered over to Edgar. She stiffened when she noticed that he was staring at her, his eyes sad and uncertain. He slowly lowered his eyes to his lap.

* * *

><p>When night has fallen the next day, Lydia crept over to Edgar's study and slowly opened the door, peeking through a crack. Edgar was sitting, writing something by the light of a candle. His head was bowed, his cheek resting on his knuckles.<p>

Lydia bit her lip in frustration, brows furrowed. He had stayed up all night, worrying and continuously writing until his hand fell off. She had no clue was he was doing, but Raven stopped her from getting involved.

_By Edgar's order, not doubt. _Lydia thought irritably. She had gotten her chance to spy when Raven went to fetch some tea.

"Miss Lydia."

The unfathomable voice was quiet, just enough so that Edgar couldn't hear, but Lydia flinched, warmth seething into her cheeks. The hairs on the back of her neck tingling, Lydia quietly shut the door, cursing at her luck, and turned around slowly. "Raven, I—I was just . . ."

His face neutral, Raven was balancing a tray of cups perfectly in his hand, the sculpted teapot and delicate teacups never giving the suspicion of faltering. His emerald eyes bore into hers, betraying nothing, the gleam in them giving her the impression that he could see conventionally through her. His voice still in its feathery whisper: "Please leave Lord Edgar be, Miss Lydia."

Lydia was still mumbling for a reply as Raven slipped past her guard to stride through the study door, closing it behind him. Lydia clenched her hands, the fabric of her gloves stretching over her knuckles, and released a pent-up breath. "What am I to do?" she murmured to herself. Leaning against the door, she bowed her head in defeat and watched her fists tremble in her lap.

"I'm not helpless, I'm not helpless . . . I'm a fairy doctor. I must have some abilities that could aid me . . . but what?" Lydia pondered this, biting her lip as she did, but nothing that she could think of could be useful. _What should do?_

"You aren't helpless, Lydia; far from it."

Lydia started and glanced down by her feet. "Nico!"

Nico was there, waving his tail ever so gracefully. His bright eyes staring up at Lydia, he traced the tip of his paw against the lip of the whiskey glass in his hand. "The Prince isn't the only one here that has power; you do too."

"But how can knowing how to treat brownies and talking to fairies be any help when you're working with the Prince?"

Nico shrugged, his eyes shining with a renewed light. "I have an idea."

"Oh? What idea is this?"

"A good one." He beckoned with his claw for Lydia to come closer. When she did, he placed his paw against her ear. "I have connections from inside the Prince's network."

Lydia stifled a gasp, grabbed Nico by his scruff of his neck (despite his protests) and carried him around the corner before speaking. "You do?" Lydia said incredulously. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

He snorted. "How could I, when the Prince's spies could be anywhere? (And geez, Lydia; why did you have to grab me so hard?)" Rubbing the back of his neck, Nico took a swing from his cup, wiping his muzzle on the back of his paw. "Besides, it wouldn't do Edgar any good with it."

Lydia sighed and tapped her foot. "You still don't trust Edgar, Nico?"

"Yes," He glared at her shrewdly. "And you shouldn't too, Lydia. These are dark times. It's already hard to find who you can trust."

Lydia smiled forcefully, and crouched beside him, trying to appear charming and sweet. "Hey, Nico, if you tell me what it is, I'll buy you a new tie."

Nico's ears perked, and there was an unmistakable flash in his eyes. He seemed to struggle with himself. "No, Lydia." He forced out. He chewed on his lip. "I—won't—tell!"

"Even with two vests?"

"N-No!" If cats could sweat, Nico definitely would be. His left eye was twitching, and his lower lip trembled. He stuffed his paws into his ears. "Don't tempt me!"

"_Please_, Nico!" Her eyes grew wide.

"I'm not listening!"

Lydia sighed and sat on the ground, exhausted. "Will you ever tell us?"

Nico glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and his demeanor calmed. "Ah, ah." He wiggled a claw in her direction. "It isn't a secret if you share it. But don't worry," his eyes gleamed mysteriously again. "the plan's a good one."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Edger met the other two in the lounge, handing Lydia a cup of jasmine tea before sharing the big news. "A duchess?" Lydia exclaimed. "But, I thought, with all that's happening—"<p>

"I won't let the Prince smear our hospitality, regardless of the circumstances." Edgar smiled his charming smile, and returned his teacup to its saucer. "Helena of France. She was traveling around, and she just happened to drop by an invitation to warn of her arrival. She's coming this night, I presume."

"Really?" said Tompkins, who had just come in to announce lunch. He chuckled softly, the creases around his mouth deepening. "I hear that Lady Helena is the most beautiful woman in Europe."

Raven glanced at Tompkins, while Edgar leaned forward and clasped Lydia's hands in his. His eyes held an edge of earnest. "If she does come, Lydia, then just so you know, I would never be interes—"

Lydia gazed at him with a look of incredibility, cheeks flushed. "What are you talking about?" She yanked back her hand, and averted her face. "Whatever you do doesn't matter to me . . . Now, if you'll excuse me . . ." She jumped to her feet and stalking out the room, her face still burning. _That fool! What did he think I was thinking of, anyways? _Yet as she rounded to corner, Lydia smiled without meaning to, and glanced behind her to make sure that no one was following.

She smiled for two reasons: That Edgar would care that much to say so, and two, that this was the first time in days that Lydia had truly smiled. All because of him.

Edgar smiled to himself as he dismissed Tompkins. "Raven," he said as he placed the teacup back on its saucer, "have you ever heard of Lady Helena before?"

"No, Lord Edgar."

"Hmm." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Neither have I." He leaned back on the couch and turned his head to look at Raven. "Can you please watch this . . . Helena for me, Raven? I have a feeling that this is going to be a very, _very,_ interesting visit indeed."

He brought his tea to his lips again.


	2. The Arrival of Hounds

Lydia started to think that Tompkins was right after all.

Lady Helena turned out to be a very beautiful woman indeed, with pale skin and long jet-black hair that ran down her back. Her green eyes burned like fire underneath her dark brows, her nose delicately narrow and her skin flawless. She was tall considering her youthful appearance, for she wore no shoes with any heel, and so she was taller than Lydia and was about Raven's height, give or take. She wore a flowing emerald gown that shimmered whenever she moved, a jeweled brooch by the choker. Compared to her, Lydia felt weak and horribly underdressed. She looked down, unable to meet her piercing, unreadable gaze.

On Edgar's other side, Raven stiffened as he stared at her. Helena moved with smooth, lethal grace, and something about her slim frame and exotic features reminded Lydia of a slender sword. Like a blade, she was held a terrible beauty and yet at the same time was endowed with an equal amount of strength. She wasn't dainty as most women were, but instead wiry, her thin yet shapely figure betraying the power and grace that she held. She had no problem with staring someone straight in the eye, and lifted her chin to stare at Edgar with a heavy-lidded gaze.

Lady Helena glanced at Raven, then and Lydia, before her gaze darted back to Edgar. "A pleasure it is to meet you for the first time, Earl Edgar." Her smooth yet throaty voice thrilled like a flute. She held out a slender hand, which Edgar kissed politely.

"A pleasure." Edgar gestured at Lydia. "This is Lydia, my . . . friend." She smiled shyly, blushing for no reason at all.

Helena dipped her head respectfully toward Lydia. "Forgive me, Lord Edgar, but I am weary from my travels, and would prefer to skip dinner."

"Of course," Edgar beckoned toward Raven. "Raven will show you to your guest room. I hope you enjoy your stay."

She smiled, and that so enhanced her beauty, that it made them pause for a moment. "I hope so as well," she said, before being led away by Raven towards the stairs.

When they had vanished behind the corner, Lydia said, "She seemed nice."

"I hope she is," Edgar said under his breath.

Lydia perked up her ears. "Hmm?"

"Nothing."

* * *

><p>Raven walked briskly through the hallways, leading Helena by a single candle. She remained unusually silent the whole time, eyeing everything that they passed. When Raven stopped at an ornate-furnished door frame, he stopped and opened the door. "Your room, Lady Helena."<p>

She dipped her head. "Thank you." She padded into the still-dim room, her gown and hair so dark that they seemed to melt into the shadows. He went into to light the room. When he had finished, Helena faced him and brushed back her raven hair, "You can leave now, Raven."

Raven found that he could not look away from her deep eyes, which were wise and somber. A shiver crawled up his back, and he shifted, internally uncomfortable. Those eyes . . . They seemed to pierce right through your very being.

He hesitated, before bowing and shutting the behind him.

* * *

><p>There was a snap as the door closed shut. Helena cocked her head to the side and listened until Raven's footsteps faded, before crossing the room and opening the balcony doors. Chilly night air filled the room, and with the sound of ravaged winds, a lean unseelie appeared on the balcony, its crimson eyes glowing like hot coals. Helena tensed her shoulders as the wolf trotted in; swing its head side to side while growling softly.<p>

Helena's once gentle face became indifferent as she studied the hound. She smoothed down her gown. "Please be silence, else they'll hear us."

The Spectral Hound's snarl quieted. Its form shrunk and elongated, until its body was replaced by a little boy, round spectacles reflecting off the light of the room. "Is this safe?"

"Perfectly," said Helena as she shut the doors again. "They haven't suspected me yet; at least, all but the Earl . . . and the servant. They don't trust me."

The boy narrowed his eyes. "_Already_?" he scoffed. "Master Ulysses and the Prince will not be pleased if you fail."

Helena whirled around with such speed, her hair fanned out from behind her. "Do you think I am so unreliable?" She challenged. Her voice was calm, eyes glinting. "I've everything planned. If the Earl suspects me, then I have to throw him off my trail. That is all." She gave a dismissive gesture, glancing back at the balcony. "Now leave. We don't want that fairy doctor to sense your presence, or the servant."

"Fine," He growled. "I'll come to see the progress in a fortnight's time. Be prepared then."

The Unseelie went out onto the balcony and turned to speak to Helena one last time. It smiled and gingerly touched its forehead, where Raven had maimed him. The white scar shone like silver in the light of the moon "Do me a favor, will you? Give my sincere regards to the half-demon." And as another gust of wind passed, the Spectral Hound faded into the darkness.

Helena held the balcony doors opened for a moment. She spoke loud enough for the Unseelie to hear. "I'll see what I can do." And with a snap, she closed the doors.

* * *

><p>The morning was bright and cheerful. The birds sang, and the sky was a flawless blue. Lydia stood outside Edgar's mansion, admiring the scenery, before walking in and joining Edgar and Lady Helena at breakfast.<p>

Even in the morning Helena looked lovely. Her long hair was bounded in a knotted braid down her back, and she wore a pale azure dress with frills by the round collar and sleeves. But Lydia noticed that Helena looked subdued. Her head was lowered to her food, and she paid little attention to anyone else. She hadn't turned to Tompkins as he refilled her glass, muttering only a soft "thank you" in response, her eyes staring directly at the table. When Raven had come in, her eyes lifted, but only for a second. She bowed her head again.

After breakfast Edgar offered to give a tour of the mansion, which Helena agreed half-heartedly. Concerned, Lydia tried chatting to her as they walked, but Helena barely seemed to notice that Lydia was there. She kept giving her occasional nods and looks, but she never talked. Lydia soon lost heart and even she faltered into an uneasy silence.

As they entered the woods, Raven keeping watch from behind, Lydia had another idea. "Edgar," she suggested, "Why don't I give Lady Helena a tour through the flower beds? That might cheer her up." Edger hesitated, but after a moment, he agreed. Lydia smiled and was about to bright Helena into the flower gardens, but as she did, Raven attempted to follow her. Lydia stopped and stared at Edgar, brow raised. "Oh, I see. Would a boy want to follow to woman while they have girl time, Edgar?"

Edgar looked surprised by the consent, but merely raised a hand to his temple, shaking his head. He smile, eyes shining. "Well, if that's what you want . . ." From his coat pocket, Edgar produced a small revolver, barely a hands breath long, and came close to Lydia as he slipped the gun into her hands. "Be safe," He murmured close to her ear, and Lydia's insides squirmed with mysterious feelings as he withdrew.

Lydia glanced at the gun, tracing its unfamiliar feel in her hand, and offered him a smile, although uneasily, and responded with a slight, "We will," She touched his shoulder, surprising both of them with the gesture. Lydia lifted her head, determined. "Don't worry. We'll be fine."

Edgar hesitated, and covered her hand with his. "For your sake, I hope so."

Lydia nodded, before leading Helena into the garden; as they had, however, Helena turned to glance at them over her shoulder, her dark eyes calculating as she stared at the men, before disappearing into the bushes of rhododendrons and lavender.

Edgar waited on a bench in the garden, gazing at the sky with an unreadable expression, Raven faithfully standing behind him, watching for danger. They waited for what felt like hours . . . and hours . . . and hours.

Raven shifted, "Lord Edgar . . ."

"I know," Edgar said stiffly. His lips tightened. "It's time. They must've gone far enough."

Raven tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming, and sauntered off into the garden. Edgar stood and prepared to follow Raven, but stopped when he felt a chilling wind blow past them, one that was too cold for this sort of weather. Raven stiffened, and leapt back, dancing lightly on the grass, as a dagger shot out from the bushes. Raven whirled around and bounded towards Edgar. "Lord Edgar!"

Edgar barely had time to think when the dagger flew towards him. Raven was suddenly by his side, and caught it in mid-throw, the edge of the dagger still quivering. With a flick of his wrist, Raven turned his waist and threw it back into the bushes, and there was an inhuman howl as it struck home. "Thank you, Raven," Edgar released a sigh.

"Look, my Lord." Raven turned to the bushes again. Dark, looming figures padded from the shadows, eyes gleaming red. _Spectral hounds. How the—damn! L—_

_Bang! Bang! _

A scream had come from the girls' general direction, jerking them from their stupor.

_Lydia!_


	3. A Staff, A Setup, and Lies

Raven pounced on the nearest hound, dagger flashing, and sliced it cleanly in two. The torn pieces of the monster flapped in different directions for a moment, but quickly merged together again, angrier than before. Raven stiffened and hefted his blade again, eyeing the hounds. There was a moment pause, before the entire pack of hounds tackled Raven, burying him underneath their dark forms. Raven was able to evade the ambush, and sliced through the group with merciless swipes, eye glowing like a neon star. But to no avail. The Spectral hounds could not be harmed, and merely flowed back into a whole; regardless of how many times Raven cut them to pieces.

Edgar lifted his cane-rapier and held back his own reasonably enough, but the majority was focused on Raven. Whenever he moved, an Unseelie would stand before him, snarling. Because of this, Edgar could only move a few feet in either direction. This frustrated him and made him attack with more aggression. But no matter what he did, they would always return. To his surprise, the hounds did not seem as though they were trying to hurt them. They only seemed to want to trap him in their circle, as they did to Raven. Edgar cursed to himself. _They want us to stay away from Lydia. _Another thought flitted into his mind. _But how can they stand in the sunlight? I thought—_

But as quickly as it had come, it was over. The Unseelies leapt back, teeth bared, and slowly backed away into the shadows. As one, they disappeared into wisps of grey smoke, before fading entirely.

Heart still pounding in his ribcage, Edgar sheathed his cane and sauntered to Raven, who was standing in the clearing, dagger still clenched in his hand and his eyes directed to the place where the Unseelie had vanished. Without turning to him, Raven inquired in his mellow voice, "Are you hurt, Lord Edgar?"

"No, but Lydia and Helena may be." Edgar scanned the clearing. "Go after them."

Raven dove into the garden before Edgar could finish his sentence. Fear prickled up his spine as he ran too, feeling the holster of his gun from inside his jacket. He swore. _Why did I leave those girls alone?_

* * *

><p><strong>TWO MINUTES BEFORE<strong>

Lydia sat at a stone bench, gazing at the flowers with delight. She could see the small forms of brownies scrambling underneath the flower's leaves, bickering to each other. She glanced at Helena, who was sitting beside her and gazing at the sky with a slight indifference. There was something about that look that struck a chord within Lydia, reminding her of Raven. She tried to ignore that thought. "Isn't today's weather wonderful, Helena-san?"

"Yes," she murmured, "'Tis quite nice." But she wasn't looking at the sky anymore, but merely gazing at her hands on her lap. Lydia's smile wavered, and she sighed inwardly. It was difficult to continue a conversation with her for long, and so Lydia instead contented herself with enjoying the scenery.

"Lydia-san?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you fond of Earl Ashenbert?"

The question was so unexpected, that Lydia was at a loss for words. She glanced at Helena, who was gazing at Lydia with her dark eyes, head tilted slightly to the side, so that her voluminous hair fell over her narrow shoulder. She waited patiently as she expected her answer.

Lydia hesitated. "What way are you speaking of?"

Helena lifted a perfect, tapered finger and moved her hair behind a pale ear. "To place it more bluntly, do you love Lord Edgar, or just as a friend?"

"I—" Lydia gave a shaky laugh, and scratched her head. She felt her face grow warm. "Ah, actually, I—"

There was the _shah, shah, shah_ as something moved through the flowers. Lydia released a shuddering breath, thankful for the first time that Edgar had come to intervene. She turned. "Edgar, w—"

Her breath caught in her throat as an Unseelie padded from the bushes.

* * *

><p>Before Lydia could react, Helena lunged behind her and clamped her hand over Lydia's mouth, stifling her scream. Lydia's hands flew to her mouth, trying to wrench Helena's fingers off, but to no avail. Instead, Lydia reached into the folds of her gown and grasped the revolver Edgar had given her. She yanked it out and was able to shoot two bullets into the air as a warning.<p>

Helena furrowed her brows as her sensitive ears rang with pain. Her fingers loosened, and Lydia screamed.

Scowling, Helena hissed in Lydia's ear. "Cysgu!"

Lydia trembled, expression fearful, before she became limp in Helena's arms, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Helena placed her gingerly on the ground, and slipped the gun out of Lydia's fingers.

"You fool," Helena murmured as she straightened, watching the hound with a faint detest. "If you had only given me a second's warning, then all would've been well."

The Unseelie hissed and attempted to stand on its two legs. Its form shrunk, its arms became thinner, legs shorter, and face flatter. The boy with the round glasses appeared in its place. "Change of plans," he sniffed, studying his nails. "The Prince wants you to move faster now than ever. He'll come in two more weeks." He eyed Lydia. "Did you kill her?"

"No, I merely put her to sleep." Helena's face was blank, but her eyes glowed more fiercely than before. He sensed that she was irritated. "Nevertheless, you expect me to solve the problem you caused?" She lifted a hand. "Or would you rather want me to remove the spell that allows you to stay in the sunlight?" Her eyes narrowed, and she smiled charmingly. If the hound was not used to that devious look, he would've been taken by her inhuman beauty. "It would be quite a pleasure to see you writhe in pain."

Jimmy scowled, but he could not ignore the twinge of fear within the bowels of his mind. He forced a laugh. "Already pressured, are you? Please, I thought that I was talking to the Prince's most _talented _servant. My, my; if this is all that he has, then that would be quite a shame to report this, wouldn't it?"

Helena glowered at the Unseelie. "Do not presume so quickly, hound. I will not betray nor disappoint my master, no matter the cause . . . Has your companions been holding off the others?"

"Naturally."

"Very well, then." She lifted an arm. "This can easily be solved. Besides, this might work in my advantage.

"Vleka." There was the whoosh of air, then the sound of rustling leaves. A long, white staff with carved runes suddenly appeared in her hand, the top holding a glowing gem in the shape of a teardrop. The gem glowed with its own mysterious light, like a candle, but brighter. It was at least a head taller than Helena.

Jimmy stiffened, and backed away warily. "The Staff of Crossandra," he breathed. Just being near the pure magic was making him uneasily.

"One of the most powerful fey staffs in existence," Helena murmured.

"How did you come across it?"

"The Prince entrusted it in my care before I left."

The Unseelie sneered, and muttered, "Of course, the Prince's little favorite. How could I have forgotten?"

Helena ignored him as she lifted the graceful staff off the ground. Then, as she began to circle Lydia's body, Helena whispered words of power under her breath, pounding the end of the staff at a few intervals. The air around them rippled, and the trees and bushes around them swayed when there was no wind. The brownies and faeries cowered underneath the bushes as the magic took effect, and the sky darkened with pregnant clouds.

After encircling Lydia for the third time in a clock-wise rotation, Helena stopped at Lydia's head and used both of her hands to lift the staff into the air. "Dechrau eldur botek!" Helena's eyes flashed a bright color of amber, and she slammed the butt of the staff against the ground, just inches from Lydia's head.

A blast of white magic flew from the gem on top to make a grab towards Lydia. Her body jerked as the magic was repelled, as though it hit an invisible barrier, and Helena covered her face as the bright magic flew past her, to glide back to the gem. It felt as if a great wind had flown past. Helena brushed the hair from her eyes, and her grip loosened on the staff. Helena frowned, seeming puzzled, and crouched by Lydia.

Jimmy, who had been cowering at the edge of the forest, strode forward cautiously, sniffing the air. "What had happened?"

"Something repelled the magic," Helena said, her eyes scanning Lydia. There was a glint that caught her eye.

On Lydia's left ring finger, a moon-shaped ring gleamed. Helena reached out tentatively, and tried to slip off the ring. There was a crackle of white light, and Helena drew back her hand, as though burned. She scowled. "Vleka!"

The tip of the staff glowed briefly. Helena reached out again, and carefully slipped the ring off her finger. Holding it to the light, she smirked. "The Ring of Gwendolen . . . well, if I cannot put a spell on Lydia, then I will on you." The surface of the ring flashed angrily.

Helena smiled, amused. "Try all you like, but you cannot match my power and the Staff of Crossandra." She began a low monotone as she wove the spell, and at the end, her eyes flashed amber again, before fading back to emerald. The ring's surface turned an unpleasant, murky color, and the air around it shimmered. After a moment, it returned back to its clear white.

Helena placed it back on Lydia's finger, and stood. She then murmured more spells to erase Lydia's previous memories and replace them with new ones. Waving her hand, the staff disappeared again. "It is done. Now, call off your spectral hounds. Their assistance it unneeded."

He had just finished contacting the Unseelies when Helena started off into the woods. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Somewhere," She waved a vague hand, glancing at the sky. "Raven is coming. He will be here shortly."

"You can sense him, huh?" he sneered. "Maybe it's because you're a half-demon too."

Helena's steps slowed to a stop, and turned around to face the Unseelie. He had expected her to be angry, but instead, a small smile graced her face. "You are fortunate, then. I rewrote Lydia's memories with you in them. Perhaps this time . . . you'll have a chance to reenact your revenge. Fare thee well." She bounded into the shadows without another word. After an instant, she vanished.

"Wait! What do you mean, you had me in them?" A shard of fear pierced his soul. Whatever Helena did, it always had a touch of malevolence within. _What is she planning . . ?_

But before he could follow her, a figure bounded into the clearing. He didn't have to look to know that it was Raven.

Despite himself, Jimmy felt the stir of lost thoughts of revenge within his belly. A fierce smile arose to his face as he spun around, crouched, and turned back into his hound form. He stepped forward threateningly, a warning growl rising from his throat. Raven's steps slackened as he watched him for any inclination of attack. Watching eyes shining from underneath his dark hair, he hoisted his dagger.

Beside the Unseelie, Lydia began to stir.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Notes: <strong>Some of the words Helena used were of Welsh and Norwegian, while the Staff of Crossandra I completely made up on the spot.


	4. Birds of a Feather Flock Together

The wind whistled close to Raven's ear as he loped through the garden. The flower bushes were too high for him to see, so he bounded on top a rose bush and leaped over, dagger drawn. Lydia was sprawled on the ground, unconscious. A huge Spectral Hound was standing guard over her, swinging its massive head toward Raven. It growled, displaying its white fangs.

Raven lifted his dagger, tense, and waited.

It tackled him, but he was too quick to be caught. He twisted to the side, and the hound followed him, turning in direction. Like a blade of grass, Raven bent backward smoothly as the Unseelie sailed over his head. He raised his dagger at the same time and maimed the hound from its shoulder to hip. The Unseelie howled as it landed again, limping.

It glared at Raven with a mixture of anger and hatred. But as it prepared to leap again, it stiffened, as though frozen for a minute. Raven didn't give it a chance to move. He dove forward and pierced the Unseelie between its eyes. Its great, anguished howl emanated from its maw as the dagger was wrenched away and retreated into the bushes. Raven pursued, but by that time the Spectral Hound had already gone.

Raven waited and made sure that the hound had gone, before he walked back to Lydia and found that Edgar had already arrived. He held Lydia in the crook of his arm, worry knitting his eyebrows. He pressed his finger against Lydia's upper lip, and relaxed. "Good," he murmured. "She's still breathing."

The motion awoke Lydia. She stirred, and her eyes opened drowsily. "Edgar . . .?"

Edgar bent closer. "Lydia," He whispered. "Are you all right?"

She nodded slowly, scanning the ground around her. "Where's Helena-san?"

"I don't know."

Fear widened her eyes. "Edgar! The two Unseelie—they—"

Edgar frowned, puzzled. "Two?"

She nodded shakily. "There were two Unseelie that caught us unawares. One of them took Helena—I shot two bullets, but . . ."

"Say no more." Edgar whispered.

"And I must've fallen . . . I can't remember the rest." Looking flustered and tearful at the same time, Lydia clenched her shaking hands.

Edgar soothingly touched her face. "It's okay. We'll bring you back to the mansion, then—"

"No!" She sat up, fully alert. "We have to find Helena-san first!"

Edgar exchanged glances with Raven. ". . . But Lydia, you're hurt."

"I'm fine!" She protested angrily, staggering to her feet. "We have to find her."

Edgar and Raven exchanged a look, before coming to an agreement. "Very well." Edgar said, standing. "Let's go, Raven." They retrieved Lydia's gun from a nearby bush, and after returning it to her, the three walked into the gloom of the woods, guided only by Lydia's memory on the direction they'd gone. As they walked further in and farther into the forest, Edgar asked, "Lydia, there was something that I was wondering. I thought that Unseelies couldn't come out in the sunlight."

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. "They can't. I don't understand . . ."

Morning quickly turned to noon, and the sun became hot against their faces. They had gotten too deep within the wood, when they heard a distant growl. Without thought, Raven bounded to that direction.

* * *

><p>Helena stood in the center of a forest clearing, and lifted her arms. "Iludren, siandria, lëtho vioet, sayhfin ahdhja . . ."<p>

There was a wisp of dark smoke, and the temperature feel considerably. A spectral hound appeared before her, its large body casting Helena in its shadow. Helena cocked her head and bowed, a faint smile lingering on her lips. Ulysses and the Prince weren't the only ones that could control the Unseelie. She dipped her head, and sat on the ground before it. "Let it come."

Behind her, Helena heard the sound of Jimmy thrashing through the woods. "Where are you, traitor? Come out and face me! COME!"

There was a thrashing of branches. Helena could feel his harsh stare behind her as he crept closer. "You," he growled. "Bitch. You betrayed me."

"Oh?" She enquired innocently. "In what way are you speaking of?"

"You know perfectly well! You jinxed me! If it had held me any longer, I would have been crippled by the servant!"

"Good, then." Helena spoke with dispassion, as though they were talking of the weather. She leaned forward, pleased. All had gone as she anticipated. "Shame. It would've been better to have one less Unseelie around." _The arrangement is going to plan. All I require now is . . . _

Jimmy started forward. She could hear the blood dripping profusely from his wound as it hit the ground. "How dare you! I'll kill you once and for all!"

She could feel the wind blow past as the hound charged up behind her, then as it pounced. And yet she remained still, utterly fearless. Helena smiled and counted the seconds as they trickled past. _Un, dau, tri_ . . . after a while, she covered her head in a cowering position. "No!" Her voice had completely changed, dropping its cool tone to be replaced by something more . . . terrible. "Please! Someone, help me!"

If Jimmy had been more aware and in its right head, then he would've noticed how odd Helena was acting. She was never afraid of pain or death, and would've stood her ground, prepared to fight to the death. But she had never, _ever _surrendered or cried out for help. _Never. _It was beyond her nature.

And if he had been more careful, he would've noticed when Raven came up from behind him.

* * *

><p>Raven found two Spectral hounds, one keeping guard over Helena, the other one, he presumed was the one before, attacking her. Raven loped faster, his left eye glowing, and bounded into the air parallel to the leaping hound. Before it could react, Raven twisted into a corkscrew as he slashed his arm threw the air, cleaving the Unseelie perfectly across its middle. There was a howl as it was ripped in two, before exploding in a furry of shadows, never to be seen again. Raven landed lightly on the ground, and lifted his head to gaze at the larger Unseelie. His eye glowed warningly, and the spectral hound backed away, before disappearing into the shadows.<p>

Sheathing his dagger, Raven walked over and placed his hand on Helena's shoulder. She was on her knees, with her face bowed, her long black hair falling past her shoulders. "Lady Helena-sama."

She lifted her head and turned to look up at Raven. Her twinkling emerald eyes shone in the light, and she smiled faintly in relief, all fear gone. "I had seen what you did," she murmured. "Thank you, Raven."

Raven paused, enthralled by her eyes. It wasn't because of her beauty; he had seen many beautiful women before (thanks to Edgar), but there was something about the way she smiled at him at indicated that she did not fear him at all. _How can that be . . . had she not seen what I did? _Raven had never felt such peculiar feelings before . . . what was these foreign emotions that he sensed gnaw at his insides?

. . . He did not know.

Raven stared at Helena, speechless for a moment, before offering a hand for her to stand. When she stood, Edgar and Lydia stumbled from the forest. "Helena-san!" Lydia rushed forward, although she was still a little unsteady on her feet. "Are you okay?"

She sighed. "I am fine. Perhaps a little weak at the knees (as have you) . . . Miss Lydia, may you please tell me _what _I had just seen?"

Helena clasped Lydia's forearm to steady her and herself in turn. As those two padded away, Lydia smiling nervously, Edgar noticed how taut Raven was, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Raven? Are you well?"

His voice seemed to come from far away. Raven could not process it clearly. " . . . Yes, Lord Edgar."

Edgar frowned. "Then what's troubling you?"

"Nothing, my Lord." he hesitated. "Nothing at all,"

* * *

><p>Helena sat with her shoulders tensing slightly, just as she was taught to imitate shock, and held her face slightly puzzled but not enough to hint utter confusion. As Lydia explained, Edgar right next to her, Raven served out the light brunch. She noted how rigid he held himself, despite his stoic expression. She was pleased. That plan had gone well, as it should. She was a master at deception, after all.<p>

Her gaze wandered back to Lydia. Along with that, she was also very skilled at studying people and their emotions. Her gold-green eyes were slightly closed, suggesting fatigue, her eyebrows creased, and her hand playing uncertainly with her caramel-colored hair. Helena could read her more easily than a book, it seemed.

Edgar, on the other hand, was more difficult to fathom. He gazed at her calmly, his position relaxed, but there was something about the set of his mouth and the steely glint of his eye that Helena sensed was something close to suspicion and anger. He kept glancing between Helena and Lydia.

Helena frowned as she listened to Lydia and thought of Edgar and Raven. Edgar seemed not to trust her, and so if Helena was able to get him on her side, she would also partially gain Raven's trust. And it was Raven's and Lydia's trust that he most valued. Edgar treasured both of them, so there would be a higher possibility that he would be forced to accept her if the others agreed.

All would be in time.

"So then . . ." Helena began after Lydia had finished, careful to keep a tremor in her voice. "This is all real? Faeries and the Unseelie . . . all have been true?"

"Yes."

Helena hesitated and crossed her arms, massaging her elbows. "I have always been instructed since I was a child that the fey do not exist. Now I see that it had been real all along . . . I feel relieved, I suppose, that I am not alone." Of course, the majority of these were all lies. But then again, she was also a very good liar.

Lydia appeared apprehensive. "Then you won't tell an—"

"I will not, you have my word as a duchess . . . And I thank you."

Lydia paused, and smiled, grateful. "Thank you, Helena-sama."

* * *

><p>As Raven lead Helena back to her room using a single lamplight, Helena considered him from behind. Raven was tall, not as tall as Edgar, but tall, nonetheless. He was lean, with a perfectly straight back and nimble steps. His skin was of an exotic color; of it, she could not be sure of what origin. She thought that he was handsome, but not in the way Edgar was handsome . . . No, it was more akin to the dagger he used. He was sharp and quick when needed, but also discreet and useful for someone like Edgar, as one would carry around a knife on their belt. But like a dagger, he always emanated danger, no matter how beautiful or silent from misuse a dagger could be. Raven was simply Raven. Even if the Prince was gone, and Edgar didn't need his skills anymore, he would always be there, watching.<p>

Waiting.

His large, striking green eyes, round cheekbones, and straight nose gave him an oddly youthful appearance, more so than Edgars. In a way, he resembled herself, who, as Helena rightly knew, appeared to be but sixteen, but was actually—no. Such gibbering could wait until later. But now . . .

Lifting a gloved hand, he opened her door, and flickered on the lights. Helena padded in, holding her grass-stained dress up so as to avoid brushing it against the ground. She seated herself in front of a desk, and glanced at Raven as he draped the windows. "Thank you, Raven."

He stiffened, and slowly began to depart towards the door. "I will prepare the bath. If you need anything, Lady Helena-sama, I will be there." But as he touched the door handle, he hesitated, then turned slightly, fingers still grasping the handle. His face was carefully guarded. "My Lady, may I ask a question?"

"Ask ahead."

He remained silent, thinking, Helena knew. Then: "Why? Why do you not fear me?"

She lifted a slim brow. "Why must I?"

"It's because I am dangerous, Lady Helena-sama." He turned to face the door. "Many do not trust me . . . because they know of what I can and will do."

"And you are puzzled why I act the way I do."

He nodded.

She laced her fingers. "Raven . . . there are no such things when gambling to be completely safe. People who don't understand their position fear the others who have power. This I know. But . . . how is fear different from not comprehending? Many do not understand, and so they are afraid of the dissimilarity. Do not worry, for I know that you are the tipping of the blade that saved me. And a two-edged blade could either used for evil or good. You used your power to rescue me, Raven, and that demonstrations your moral character. When you did as you did, I recognized your good, and so arbitrated you as such."

"I was acting for Miss Lydia and Lord Edgar. You're an important and guest."

"And had Edgar or Lydia asked you to save me?"

He remained silent for a while, before changing the topic. "Forgive me, but you are ignorant of who I am; you know little of what I've done in the past."

She raised her brows, and turned to face her desk. "To judge one is to judge on what they've done nowadays. It is undeserved to treat them impartially because of their past."

Raven considered Helena for a long stretch of time, before bowing slightly. "You are very wise, Helena-sama."

"Wise? I think not. I'm merely thoughtful in how the world is."

He bowed again, more briefly this time, before opening the door.

"And, Raven?"

"Yes?"

"Remember that I am not afraid."

He did not look back as the door closed behind him. Helena smiled and reached for a quill pen, stretching out a clean sheet of paper. As she stared down on the endless sea of virgin white, Helena rested her cheek on the palm of her left hand, as she tapped the quill with the other. _I have done as the Prince had asked. Now all I have to do is gain Edgar's trust. _A vivid image of Edgar presented itself in her mind, and she closed her eyes, pleased. But the feeling quickly disappeared as she remembered Raven.

_Raven. _His name brought thoughts of fierce wings and eyes, of its age old cry of death and the streak of its wings as it thirsted for the carnage of war, to feast on the water of an enemies' veins . . . how the name suited him, and how it did not.

Her smile faded, leaving her brooding. _Raven did not wish for this. 'Tis the spirit that resides inside of him that longs for such. I, however . . ._

_This is my burden, and my alone. _Almost instinctively, Helena reached up to touch her neck, which her long collar mostly covered. She quickly caught herself. "Astharí." The ink of her pen spilled onto the once clean, beautiful white . . . staining it . . . _contaminating _it . . .

Helena blinked at the unseen emotion, and waved her hand. "Othara." The ink immediately redirected itself, squirming over the paper like tadpoles, as it formed together to create long, graceful words. As Helena folded and stamped the letter with a special seal, and she slipped it underneath her desk, where she knew the imps would find and send it.

She smoothed down her dress. "Raven, I am not afraid of you . . . but you have every right to fear me."


	5. Guardians' Grief

**Sorry if there are any spelling errors. I only quickly scanned through this. Also, sorry if Kelpie's personality doesn't really fit. I haven't re-watched Earl and fairy for a while. R&R**

* * *

><p>A week passed, and came the time that Helena was to leave.<p>

In a second of jumbled emotions, Raven despaired her parting. He was fond of Helena in a way he could not explain. She understood him more than anyone ever had, and seemed to accept him as he was. No one but Edgar was truly relaxed in his presence. Perhaps Lydia was also, but it was Helena who saw through Raven with the sharpest accuracy than he knew Edgar could never compete against. She was intelligent, witty, and, most of the time, indecipherable in her own thoughts and feelings.

But that did not hide her overall charm. Her friendship with Lydia grew everyday as they discussed faeries and toyed with Nico, and Raven knew from sight that Edgar didn't remain untouched by her uncommon brilliance. But she, in turn, was not affected by Edgar's natural attraction in the least, in which Lydia was. She seemed at times amused, standoffish, cunning, cold, impassive and wise all without batting an eyelash. That mysteriousness of her character naturally brought in inquisitiveness. Raven could not understand this girl; she was like an endless maze that twisted interminably in all different directions; the further you studied, the more lost you became.

And yet, with all the words she spoke and reactions she gave, when Raven examined everything he knew about her in whole, he found but the bare minimum. He could not fathom how. He spoke less than her, reacted less than she, and yet she was able to read him _so_ well. How then, could he not with her?

Yet could she still be an agent of the Prince? It seemed so unlikely . . . She didn't appear suspicious at all, and hadn't made a move in an attempt to apprehend their small-knit group. Raven struggled with himself for this, trying to reason with himself, but his heart, which had remained dormant for all these years, began to thud for Helena. And it was his heart that decided the choice for him.

It didn't matter if Helena was of royal blood. The feeling was of his own, and although Raven was dimly aware he was betraying Edgar's trust, he knew this feeling was one he would never share, and so used the secrecy to his advantage.

Therefore, when she announced her parting, Raven wanted her to stay, for he feared that he would never again meet someone whom he could relate to so easily. On the other hand, he also wanted her to leave, for Raven was uneasy of how easily she could understand him. Of those two opposite decisions, he could not choose which, and so remained silent when Helena spoke to Edgar about this matter.

"My apologies, but I am saddened by your leave and wished for you to stay, if only for a little longer." Edgar said one morning. They were in the longue, after breakfast. "I was eager for you to help me send a message to your cousin, his Majesty."

"Oh?" she cocked a brow. "Then, if you wish for me to do you a favor and send it personally, I will, Earl Ashenbert."

"However, there is one problem; I haven't finished my imperative note." A smile danced on his lips. "I feel embarrassed for explaining my leisureliness to you."

"None at all," Helena's raven hair blazed in the morning sunshine. "I don't have anything important to do from now 'til Wednesday the next week; therefore, I'll stay for a few more days until you're done." Raven's stomach lurched unexpectedly. "My cousin is busy; with me to send it, it would be the fastest and the most efficient if this letter is as important as you deem. If you'll excuse me, I must discuss this with my ride." And she exited the room to speak to her carriage driver, the one that had been waiting at the foot of the mansion.

When Helena had gone, Raven glided towards the window and peered out of the curtains, waiting as he saw Helena's flowing black hair appear as she walked to the single carriage. "She has gone."

"Good." Edgar called for Lydia, and explained to her about the message.

Lydia frowned. "But you—"

"I'm not working on a letter," Edgar sighed. "I lied about that one, but I had to save time. We can't allow Helena to escape. What if she's returning to the Prince and conveying all the information she'd collected? No; I won't let her out of my sight."

"So you still believe that Helena is a servant of the Prince." Her voice held a note of venom Raven had never heard before. Her eyes narrowed, and her expression darkened.

Edgar's lips tightened and he clasped Lydia's hands in his own. "Lydia, I know that you find Helena as a good friend, but not everyone can be trusted." He stroked her hands. "I just want you to be safe."

"By abandoning my friends is what you call safety!" Lydia's face was contorted by a scowl, and she yanked her hands away. "'Not everyone can be trusted,' you said. How can I be sure that you're just trying to trick me in to believing that Helena's my enemy? How?"

Edgar backed away, stunned. "Lydia . . ."

"_Lydia, Lydia_," she mocked, sneering. "Is that all you can say? I thought that you would trust me for once." Without a backward glance, Lydia burst the doors open and fled, slamming them shut. The men listened in silence as her footsteps faded away.

Raven started forward, intended on following her, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned, surprised. "Lord Edgar . . ?"

"Leave her be." Edgar lifted his head and attempted to smile, but failed. "Let Lydia mull her thoughts over before I speak to her." And, all but dragging his feet, Edgar left the room in measured steps. The oiled hinge of the door closing sounded louder in the newfound silence.

Raven hesitated; tempted to follow his master, but an impulse forced him to redirect himself to the window. Ever so slightly, Raven drew aside the curtains and looked below at Helena.

Her eyes too, were focused up at him, solemn and cold, yet also aglow with an unusual light. A chill crept through him, and Raven shut the curtains with a flick of his wrist.

* * *

><p>Helena felt a twinge of alarm at the back of her head, and lifted her eyed to regard the window. The Ring of Gwendolen had done its work. A feeling of satisfaction crept through Helena, one that was unburdened by thoughts of guilt. They were tools, after all. Merely tools for her to use until they broke.<p>

Helena blinked as the curtains were drawn aside somewhat, and the green, almost black eyes of Raven peered down at her. Their eyes locked, before the hangings obscured them again. She faltered, perturbed. Her hands touched her temples, massaging them. _Merely tools . . ._

_The Prince will be pleased._

That thought dashed all others. Helena faced the driver again, lowering her hands. "That is all, Brian. You may go."

The driver wore a simple beige jacket with a brown tie, his dark hair cut close to the head. Leery, snide eyes gleamed underneath a sloping hat that hid his brows. His nose was large and sausage-like at the top, but as it slanted down, it ended with an unpleasant curl with upturned nostrils. His large, thin mouth, circled by deep wrinkles, opened and gaped akin to that of a fish. His posture was slightly stooped, his neck arched and devoid of flesh, while the rest of his body was embellished by his large padding of unkempt clothes. When he moved his arms, the sleeves flapped. He seemed to be the combination of a vulture and a puckish weasel.

His voice wheezed unlike any others. "Have you finished the job, m'lady?"

"Certainly," Helena withdrew a dollar note and gave it to Brian. Wrapped in the paper was a small key. Helena raised a questioning brow. "Had you expected anything else?"

"Not for one moment, I have." He weighed the note and hidden key in his hand, before slipping it into his coat. "Your expertise is appreciated, m'lady." He gave a short bow, and climbed onto his carriage. There was the sound was whips as it slapped the horses, and then drove away into the woodland once more.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Helena leaned against her door and listened with her inner ear as Edgar attempted to apologize to Lydia. None of his pleading did any good. The curse inside the moonstone provoked Lydia to act stubborn and distraught. It would gradually increase until Lydia would be teetering on the edge of madness, and the only way Edgar could break this spell was to promise to drop all suspicions of Helena. It was a risky plan, but it would be well worth the risk if it worked. Besides, even if Edgar stopped his investigations, the moment he started again, the spell would be triggered. Endless circles within endless circles.<p>

Helena smiled. Perhaps with all this time with the Prince, his teachings in hiding their trails had interwoven with her character. She was aware with how unpredictable she was, and instead be frightened and troubled with such a realization, as normal people would do; Helena was elated by this and encouraged it. She would always be a shadow behind a shadow, to hide behind a duplicate for all eternity. It would be for the best, for Helena's true self to fade away, and never—

No! She could not think of these thoughts . . . Not while she was here. Helena must be focused on her work, lest it should waver and she to fall to oblivion.*

Helena released a slow, calm breath, just as she had been taught, and straightened, thrusting herself from the door. "Taëth madra." The windows' curtains fluttered, and closed with a _snap_. Helena strode forward and was about to prepare for bed, when a sudden wind shook her nearest window. Helena paused, her eyes fixing on the curtains.

The draperies fluttered as the windows flew open, and an unearthly blast of energy propelled Helena backwards.

The sudden force set Helena off balance, but as she was thrown back, she somersaulted in the air with inhuman speed and grace, the helm of her gown flapping, landed, and crouched on the ground with a hand forward like a sprinter. From her sleeve, Helena extracted a naked dagger, one with a leaf-like tip and short cross-hilt.

Helena stood languidly, prepared to fight if needed.

She eyed the scene. The wind had sent everything on her desk and pillows laden on the ground, some vases shattered, with water still darkening the carpet, and a few light-weighted chairs toppled to its side. In the center of the untidiness, a tall, handsome man stood there, the window curtains still flapping ominously behind him.

His curly dark hair fell over his violet eyes, which swirled eerily with white. Helena drew herself up with distain. _So, 'tis a kelpie that caused all this. What would one be doing here?_

"Yo," He peered around him with a slight contempt. "Nice place you have."

"Why, thank you, even though it isn't mine." Helena twirled the dagger in her hand with a speed that hinted her skill. She watched the light dance off the blurring blade, creating a faint halo of white. "You _are_ very rude, barging in here without notice. Have you any aware on what time it is?"

"Enough of the crap." The kelpie snapped. He sauntered forward. "I know a fey when I see one; you're an elf, and a powerful one. Why is one of your kinds doing here so near a fairy doctor?"

"It's none of your concern, kelpie." Her gaze rested heavily on him. "But I, unlike you, have manners. What is your name?"

He stiffened, drawing to a stop. "Cain."

"Well then, _Cain_ . . . What are you doing here, so near a fairy doctor?"

"None of your business," He sneered. "But I just want to know, _what _the hell you're doing bewitching Lydia. Your kind doesn't usually dwell on human affairs, so lay off Lydia, and return to wherever you were, else you'll be sorry."

"We just met and you're already threatening me? Nice way of showing courteousness."

In a flash, Cain disappeared and reappeared before Helena, so close that she could feel his breath. Cain slammed his fist against the wall, shattering it, an inch beside her head. Helena didn't even blink, but gazed up at Cain with dark amusement, eyes gleaming.

He began to breathe heavily, nostrils flared. "Stay away from Lydia. I don't care about the others, but don't you even _look _at her, or you'll pay."

"If you wanted me to distance myself without bother, why didn't you kill me beforehand?" When Cain didn't respond, she . "My power is twenty times stronger than yours; you couldn't even scratch me if you wanted." Her eyes flashed amber, and a sudden force caught Cain in the chest, tossing him backwards, to hit the opposite wall. There was a _crack _sound as the wall behind him splintered.

Helena strode forward to Cain's unresponsive figure, and squatted beside him.

"Please," he murmured, almost begging. Blood trickled out of the corner from his mouth. "I'll do anything in my power, but don't hurt Lydia."

Smiling, as one would to an ignorant child, Helena reached forward and patted Cain's head; he flinched at the contact. "The difference between you and me," she whispered. "is power. The victor always towers above, triumphant, while their enemies lay piled by their feet.

"But you see, Cain, many things can happen from now to then. If you don't do as I wish, then I'll be sure to add a bit more in remembrance of you . . ."

He scowled. "Bitch,"

"The last who said such a vulgar word to me is out smothering in his grave." She held a finger to her lips. "Best be quiet, don't you agree?"

When he remained silent, shooting her dirtiest looks possible, Helena stood and smoothed her gown. "I wish to propose a proposition to you, and if you approve the terms, then I'll do all in my power to keep Lydia Carlton safe."

"You promise?" he said suspiciously.

"Promise," Snatching a pen from the ground, she drew a strange symbol on her arm, and held it out to the kelpie. His eyes widened, and he reached out and touched the mark. It vanished from her skin to appear on his arm. "A fey promise."

Cain considered the icon, before spitting out, "Fine. What is it?"

When she explained it to him, Cain's expression soured, and he sighed. "Whatever," and stood to leave. But as he was about to depart from the window, he turned to look at Helena again. "There is someone you want to protect, isn't there?"

"You speak of nonsense," Helena said irritably.

"Oh, I might not be able to control you, but I can see well enough into your soul." he leered. "Maybe you're not all faithful as you seem you are." And he melted into the darkening shadows.

Helena narrowed her eyes, closed the window, and as repaired the broken pottery with magic, she fumed about what the kelpie had said.

Later, when she lay down in bed, Helena closed her eyes, drifting to sleep. _The kelpie was correct. _She admitted.

_There is someone I want to protect._

_With all of my heart._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Notes: <strong>* hint, hint


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